Nice to know that Hendry Hill wasn't one of those birthday whores who has to let the whole fucking universe know that it's his/her birthday. And don't even get me started on birthday "weeks" or, heaven forbid, birthday "months". Grow up and get all the way the fuck out of here with that. Once you're past 21, nobody gives a shit except for your family.
Moving on, I never knew this little GOODFELLAS chestnut and now my
pageview count life is better for it. In addition to his alarming lack of self-awareness, Hill also never stopped being a POS in his post-gangster rat life.
The movie also led to one of my proudest moments in college.
Drinks are on...the house.